Yellow Leaves.

Yellow leaves of autumn evening,
abandoned from their parent abode.
Fall slowly to the red ground,
like dreams of young men.

As they grow and follow the same motion
to dissolve into black ocean.
Of time of places lost
Leaves have no address now
Only the lost property of ground.

A lazy breeze sometimes though
Picks them up and up they go
To the heights of their previous lives
To see the greener leaves
and their replaced hives

A silent nod to clueless youth
A spiral then back to the booth
Of places; of inspirations lost.
This time never again to rise.